


Words Not Said (But Still Heard)

by TsarinaTorment



Series: Fluffember [14]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Fluffember 2020, Gen, Hospital, Singing, Songfic, fluffember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsarinaTorment/pseuds/TsarinaTorment
Summary: Gordon didn’t remember much about his time in the hospital, but he remembered the song.
Relationships: Gordon Tracy & Scott Tracy
Series: Fluffember [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996258
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Words Not Said (But Still Heard)

Scott had done a lot for them over the years, some more obvious than others but all appreciated just the same. When they'd lost Mom, and then Dad, he'd stepped up into far more of a parental role than he should have ever had to take on, and while Gordon knew none of them ever mentioned it, they were all keenly aware of that fact.

But perhaps they _should_ mention it from time to time. They'd grown up secure in the knowledge that Scott was always there for them, but sometimes he wondered if Scott knew that they were also there for _him_. Knowing Scott and his reluctance to lean on anyone, it was unlikely. _Maybe_ he'd accepted that John wasn't going to back down without a fight, and Virgil had inherited the same smother-genes, but Gordon knew for a fact that neither he nor Alan were expected to do any supporting of their eldest brother.

Too bad for Scott, but Gordon wasn't going to sit back and let him suffer in silence when there was something he could do about it.

He didn't have many memories of weeks immediately after the hydrofoil crash, not least because he'd been comatose for much of the time. There were months, even, where his memory was patchy at best, a whirlwind of treatment and hospital and therapy with an underlying current of terrified family beneath it all.

What he did remember was the song.

It was one Mom used to sing, a lullaby that pacified whichever son it was aimed at – a song of hope and reassurance that no matter what, everything would turn out fine in the end. Mom was several years gone, and Alan had grown up knowing it in Scott's voice, big brother turned parent to a toddler who didn't understand why Mommy wasn't around anymore.

Gordon had been more of Virgil's responsibility, back then. Insomnia had been soothed by his immediately bigger brother's melodic voice and instinct for music. Scott had had his hands too full with Alan, then.

But it wasn't Virgil's voice he remembered as he'd drifted in and out of awareness, all those months in the hospital. Rough and pained but _hopeful_ , it was Scott that had held his hand and sung to him, reaching him in a way that nothing else truly could.

Gordon wasn't sure if he'd ever thanked Scott for that. He didn't know if Scott knew he'd heard it, let alone remembered it when the whole traumatic experience was locked up securely in the depths of his memories, to be revisited hopefully never.

If there was ever a time to let him know, it was now.

A rescue gone wrong, broken bones and so many painkillers he was barely lucid when he was conscious. Virgil had been sent home by John, putting his Big Brother foot down in a way he rarely did, after too many consecutive nights and days by Scott's bedside, waiting for signs of recovery. Alan was similarly squirrelled away, all three of them determined that he didn't need to see Scott like this.

John and Virgil had tried that on Gordon, too. They'd backed down when he reminded them of his own hospital stints and made it crystal clear that he wouldn't leave Scott now the tables were turned. No amount of Big Brothering from either of them was enough to overrule _that_. Scott could have, but Scott was in no condition to make anyone leave (he'd tried, in his brief moments of lucidity, but it was painfully obvious that while he _said_ they didn't need to stay with him, he didn't really _want_ to be left alone).

So here Gordon was, sat in a plastic visitor's chair pulled as close to the bed as he could get it, with Scott's limp hand held in his. He didn't know if Scott was aware, or if he'd drifted off again, carried on a wave of painkillers and the haze of pain they couldn't entirely banish. It didn't matter, anyway.

Gordon had never sung it himself; he'd heard it from Mom, Virgil, Scott all those times in the hospital, and even John on rare occasions, but never sung it himself. That didn't matter, either. He'd heard it so many times he knew it by heart.

_Can't you stay  
Stay with me into the night?  
Stay, I need you close  
You can go back when the sun rises again  
Just stay tonight  
Just stay_

_I see your spirit in the sky  
When northern lights are dancing  
I hear you calling me at night  
Whenever wind is blowing  
I can see your spirit in the sky  
When northern lights are dancing_

_I'll follow you until the daylight  
Show me the way  
'Cause I am dancing with the fairies now  
They all sing our name  
I got my light here  
Shining here_

The hand he held twitched, an aborted movement, and Gordon glanced down at it as he sang, caressing long calloused fingers and watching as they moved again, stronger than before.

" _I see your spirit in the sky  
When northern lights are dancing"_

Startled at the sudden accompaniment, he found Scott's face again. Blue eyes were open and looking at him, mouth pulled into a grin he could almost describe as _smug_ , although the look in his brother's eyes was more understanding than anything else. His voice was raspy with sleep and pain, and nothing like the strong yet quiet voice that had sung to Gordon in the past, but as always, when Scott put his mind to something, nothing was going to stop him.

And Gordon couldn't say he _didn't_ like singing with his brother. It was a rare enough occurrence as it was, what with their hectic lives – and Virgil's general monopoly on anything music (not that Gordon was complaining about Virgil's singing, because he absolutely was not).

" _I hear you calling me at night  
Whenever wind is blowing  
I can see your spirit in the sky  
When northern lights are dancing"_

With the end of the song, Gordon lightly squeezed his brother's hand, and managed a smile when Scott returned the gesture, if with less strength.

"I never knew if you heard me." Scott's confession was just as quiet and raspy as his singing had been. It was a vulnerability he didn't often let himself show, and Gordon wondered if it was the song that had broken through his mask. He didn't ask.

"It's the only thing I remember," he admitted instead, to widening blue eyes. "Guess I never told you that, huh?" He squeezed his hand again.

"No," Scott murmured. "You didn't." He sounded a little melancholy, even sad, despite returning the squeeze with another weak one of his own. _I guess I never thanked you, either,_ sat on the tip of Gordon's tongue, but he swallowed them back. He knew his brother enough to know he wouldn't want to hear that – not now, and maybe not ever. Scott never wanted to be _thanked_ for caring about them, even when he went above and beyond anything that could reasonably be expected of him.

Instead, he let a grin cross his face. "Well, Virgil's not here, so it's a one time offer of a performance by yours truly," he proclaimed instead. "If you're lucky, I'll even take requests!"

The eye roll was immediate. They both knew Scott wouldn't request anything. They both also knew Gordon would sing anything if he did.

"You just lie back and heal," he continued, "and I'll provide the entertainment." Scott had the cheek to _groan_ , but he didn't say _no_ and that was enough for Gordon to delve into his mental bank of songs and start another one.

Scott wouldn't accept a thank you in words, but there was more than one way to show it.

**Author's Note:**

> #fluffember prompt #14 - Song, which decided to be awkward because I’ve already done a few that could have fit this prompt earlier in the month and finding a new take was tricky. Even after I found a new one, it decided to spiral itself out of my control, because it could. I’m not good enough to write song lyrics, so the ones used here are borrowed from part of KEiiNO’s “Spirit in the Sky”.


End file.
